Playful
by Eternal-Night-Ride
Summary: One-shots centered around the theme of "playful" or “play”. Varies wildly on genre but always with Ben/Julie and Albedo/Julie.
1. Greedy

**Playful**

A/N: Silly little one-shot scenarios of the OT3. I wanted to show Julie being flirty and playful. ;P I also wanted to write Ben/Julie vs. Ben/smoothie and Albedo/Julie vs. Albedo/chilli fries. Lulz! Prepare for massive fluff!

Greedy (Ben/Julie)

"Mmm!" was the sound that filtered through the room, despite the television blasting at full volume.

Julie wanted to keep her eyes plastered on the screen but her eyes were slowly getting inclined to roll towards the ceiling.

Right on cue, the "Mmm!" sound continued and muted out the mumbled words of the leading female character. It was one of those mystery/suspense shows that really loved to have its actors mutter grimly towards each other to imply how grave and serious the situation was. It only served to strain Julie's ear instead.

Especially when a _wise-guy_ beside her decided to be very vocal about his enjoyment of a certain drink just because she wouldn't let him watch the Sumo Slammers episode he'd already watched a million times. Apparently, because it was the Original and not Hero Generation, it was absolutely vital to his existence. This meant that he had to intrude on the show she was seeing for the first time.

Another exclamation of appreciation and she felt like slamming the cushion in her arms right into his face. Unfortunately, spilling the smoothie on her mother's carpet would have dire consequences. She needed some other ammunition if she wanted to have her revenge. She had to wait for the opportunity though. He opened his mouth and let go of the smoothie straw. _This was it. _

"This show is so lame," he complained. "The Kenko vs. Ishiyama showdown beats this stupid - Hey!"

The smoothie had been plucked out of his hand during his rant. With the hand containing the polystyrene cup, she was frowning as she explained, "You were enjoying it way too much. Those sounds were just wrong on so many levels." She tried to control the smile on her lips.

She had gotten off the sofa to stand far away from him but as soon as he realized the smoothie in his hand was missing, he'd gotten up as well.

The smug look on his face made her exasperatedly sigh in her head: _What a teenage boy._

"What, are you jealous?" he joked, cocking his head to the side. Springing towards her, his hand swiftly made a grab for the smoothie. But she'd been following tennis balls that moved much faster than that. Playing soccer meant that he was better with his feet. So it was rather easy for her to shift away and pull the cup even farther back, her hand now placed on his chest to keep him from getting it.

"Maybe I am," she followed through, giggling lightly as he extended his hand farther and swiped for the cup but constantly grabbed air instead. "So you better choose: me or the smoothie."

"Hah!" he exclaimed, stopping his attempts for a moment to place a hand on his hip confidently. "I'm the Savior of the Universe. Heroes don't choose. They get what they want in the end."

Raising a thin black eyebrow, she thought to herself how very unheroic that declaration sounded. What she actually said however was, "Not this time."

A mischievous grin. His hand hovered over the Omnitrix. "Don't make me go alien on you."

"Play fair or you don't get anything," she threatened playfully, wagging her index finger. She momentarily waved the smoothie closer so that he could make a grab for it, and then laughed excitedly when she managed to get the smoothie away before he reached it. He nearly got it there for a second but she was lucky enough to pull back just in time.

"Trust me. I'm getting both."

"No!" she giggled, running forward past him and bouncing on the sofa to get higher ground. She hoped he would at least take off his shoes before he followed her. Her mom would hate having dirt on her sofa. "Me or the smoothie?"

The Omnitrix bearer smirked evilly, crouched and then jumped.

"Ben, your shoes!" she berated half-heartedly, far too busy laughing in enjoyment as he tried to restrain her as well as hold the smoothie in his hands. He was behind her, arms wrapped around her so that his own hands could clamp on her tiny hands covering the smoothie cup.

"Told you I'd get both," he muttered into her hair, his voice tickling her ear.

Coincidentally, the end theme music of the show began to play. Julie stared dejectedly at the direction of the TV. Her boyfriend noticed this as well, squealing, "Sumo Slammers!" enthusiastically in a high-pitched voice that was decidedly unmanly. She was polite enough not to point it out.

After all that, they'd finally decided to sit down. Ben just muttered a sorry as he dusted off the dirt on the sofa from his shoes and easily plopped himself down on it. Julie cringed at the sight of him finding it so easy to sit on something he'd been stepping his shoes all over before. _They really needed to talk about hygiene at some point._

All the while, they watched _Ben's_ show as he drank _his_ smoothie and still managed to have his arm around _his_ girlfriend. Said girlfriend should really have been annoyed. Unfortunately, Julie couldn't deny that they were actually having such a good time together even if her boyfriend was being such a **greedy** jerk.

She was actually starting to enjoy the Sumo Slammers show anyway. _After all, Ishiyama was way cool_


	2. Share?

**Playful**

Share? (Albedo/Julie)

Chilli cheese fries. They were so delectably, disgustingly good. He still possessed the same complaints as he used to do with the infernal food and vocally expressed them to the cook. The human stared at him blankly through the tirade and simply handed him the paper bag.

Nonetheless, the inclination to open the bag - the putrid stench of onions hitting his face as soon as he did so - remained. There was something as equally comforting as well as incredibly irritating about it all. With a final cringe, he dipped his hand into the bag and pulled out a fry to place into his mouth. It was so disgustingly enjoyable.

"Hello!" a voice intruded, allowing him to notice that he had his eyes closed to enjoy the experience of eating his little obsession. Eyes quickly opening in annoyance, he stared at a black haired girl leaning ridiculously close to where his own face was. He wondered who put the heater on. _Maybe he should take off his jacket._ "I wanted to say I didn't expect to see you here, but that would be a lie." She had her tongue stuck out cutely.

He remained silent. Alright. Did he know this girl? Perhaps it was Ben Tennyson who knew her instead. Why was she not suspicious of his drastically different hair and eye color? Either way, he wasn't going to cause a commotion at the moment. He wanted to eat his chilli fries in peace. Pursuing Ben Ten was for later. _After dinner._

Pursing her lips, she questioned, "You look different. What happened?" She still had her face ridiculously close to him. Now, she even decided it was a good idea to touch his red jacket as if to confirm that it was real.

He racked his brain for anything. It was the proximity that was preventing his brain to function. She was invading his personal space enough to make him uncomfortable. There was a pleasant smell coming from her. _Was it her hair?_

…

He needed to focus on something else. Staring at the bag of chilli fries in his hand, he answered uncertainly, "Uh, image change?"

"Oh, okay," she reacted honestly, not providing any questions of confusion to the situation. She smiled sweetly. "That's cool." _He noted how strangely resilient the girl seemed. _

Looking down at the paper bag in his hands as if she finally noticed them, she drew even closer towards him. At that point, he felt the need to lean away because he thought their noses were about to touch. Pointing at herself, she piped in, "Ooh! Chilli cheese fries. Mind if I have some?"

She _must_ know that it was making him incredibly uncomfortable. She _had_ to be doing this on purpose. He felt his throat constrict and blood rise to his face. He wanted to reach out and pull the collar of his shirt to stop the choking feeling but he was so busy being flustered and hugging the chilli fries to his chest. "Uh, yes? I mean, no. Uh, I mean… Uh…"

Finally stepping back, she started giggling girlishly behind her hand. Waving her hand, she tried to say, "It's alright, I'm just ki--"

He only belatedly noticed that she'd stopped talking because he had his hand extended. The one with the bag of chilli fries in it. Incredulous, he stared at his own hand. _Was he __**sharing?**_ It had to be the body making him comply to the girl's wishes. On his own devices, he would have violently shooed her away by now. Besides, this food was his and his alone. She had better not--

He deflated when she perkily uttered her gratefulness and reached into the bag. He was glaring at her as she popped the fry into her mouth. For some reason, there was a desire to pull the fry back out forcefully with his teeth. This also happened to bring back the inclination to remove his jacket.

She must have noticed the time from the clock on the wall behind him because her eyes widened in alarm. "Uh-oh! I better get back home. You know - curfew and all that." She winked.

_He had absolutely no idea what she was talking about._ "Ah, yes. Of course," he responded vaguely. "Don't let me keep you." His diction remained formal despite his words forcibly contorted to casualness.

Thankfully, she didn't take particular started backing away, still facing him. "I guess I'll see you next time, then?"

"Certainly." _Perhaps. But then he would probably have to kill her. _

"Oh, and Ben?" He tried to prevent the amused chuckle to burst from his mouth at the private joke inside his head. Curiously, he looked back at her direction. "I like the brown hair, but white hair looks good on you too." After flashing him a bright smile and a wave goodbye, she turned and walked outside the store.

Unconsciously, he began to comb back his bangs in an attempt to groom it.


	3. Masquerade

Masquerade (Ben/Julie)

"How about the slasher movie instead?" was his reaction as they stepped into the theater, a look of distaste flashing on his face as his girlfriend pulled him firmly with her. With an extremely insistent tone, he added enthusiastically, "I heard a lot of people like it. It's got good reviews and everything."

Raising an eyebrow, she commented lightly, "What, is that some attempt to get me to hug you at the scary parts?" He blushed a brilliant red at the suggestion while she laughed teasingly at the look on his face.

"Only if you want to," he mumbled, looking up at her with a hopeful look in his eyes.

She simply turned around and continued giggling as if to say _fat chance_. Deflating visibly, he groaned as he was pulled into the dark movie theatre.

As he plopped himself dejectedly on the seat with arms crossed, he had his eyes plastered stubbornly on the end of the cinema where there was a bright green sign. A shadow was cast over him. When he decided to look at the front thinking that the lame movie was about to start, a soft kiss was laid on his forehead. He looked directly up at the pleasant smile on her lips.

"Thank you for doing this for me," she said mellowly. "It's really sweet."

"'S okay," he muttered, giving in with a small lopsided smile.

Occasionally, he was a jerk. It came with the overconfidence. Not this time. While they watched the movie, he didn't really feel inclined to ruin her movie experience by making any comments.

He was a bit squeamish with watching this particular movie, even more so than the slasher one which abused violence and blood to coax people to feeling uncomfortable. This one just did despite the operatic singing and the romance and the flamboyant dresses. The clincher were the masks. Decorated, beautiful and _frozen_. There was something off about them the same way as the painted smiles on clowns.

Averting his gaze to the girl beside him, he watched her dark eyes sparkle in enjoyment of the movie. Almost the complete opposite of his aversion.

His coulrophobia was irrational until Zombozo. By that point, he dissipated his fear. He knew that his distaste of this movie was as irrational as his fear of clowns. Or maybe not so much.

He never understood narcissism or looking for someone so similar to one's self. Wouldn't a person hate seeing so much of themselves in another person? All the things that he resented about himself out in the open - a constant reminder of his misgivings. Staring at the multiple masks adorned by twirling dancers, he felt himself stare into a mirror.

"You're really quiet," she mumbled as quietly as she could to not bother anyone else. He perked visibly in surprise that she was talking during the movie. She winked at him. "I was starting to worry."

"I'm not _that_ immature," he responded, pouting in a way he thought would be endearing. The raised eyebrow and disbelieving nod only made him pout more.

"You look like you're enjoying this a lot," she commented sardonically, smiling to herself as she continued staring at the screen.

"You can tell?" _Dumb question. Of course, she can. _

"Don't worry, it's pretty subtle," she reassured, patting his hand. She glanced at the worried expression on his face then returned her attention to the screen. Her body shook a little as if she was chuckling but the sounds were so slight that the only thing that indicated it was the smile on her lips.

"Hope I'm not ruining it for you," he mumbled towards her apologetically. It was wonderful that she was providing enough distraction for him so that he wasn't inclined to stare at the screen. Nonetheless, he felt like a douche for not being able to allow her to appreciate her interests.

She squeezed his hand and looked him straight in the eyes. "Are you kidding? You're the one that's making this great." He felt his chest bloom with warmth at her understanding. She winked. "And it is kinda lame." He chuckled loud enough for someone behind them to shush him.

For a few moments they were quiet in slight embarrassment.

Then she moved closer to him and mumbled, "If you want, we can ditch it for the horror movie."

When he stared at her, he could have sworn the dark eyes he was looking at could see right through him. He didn't feel unease in her knowledge and instead took comfort in the fact that she knew him. There were only so many masks he could hold until he felt as though he didn't recognize himself through them all. She was there to rummage past them and find the real one for him.

"Nah, I can deal," he assured simply and made himself look at the screen. "'Cause you're making this great."

He knew he was being honest about that when he felt the kiss on his cheek and the mumbled 'Thank you.'

They watched the movie. Through it all, he still felt discomfited by the masks. It reminded him constantly of Ben to his classmates, Ben to the Universe, Ben to his family. They were all so convoluted and confusing. One day he was proudly declaring himself the Savior of the Universe and the other day he was caving in on himself at the idea of even stepping into class for fear of judgmental stares. Sometimes he played video games and regarded TV as more important than the rest of the world, then another day he would fight threats on the Universe with a single-minded seriousness. Were they all him? Something constructed? He wasn't even sure anymore.

One thing was for sure, she always saw through them. In her eyes, he was completely bare. While he played this particular persona - normal, weird, human, not, - for all his different audiences, there were these particular eyes that saw the masks with a critical eye. Maybe that was why it was much easier for her to comfort him. Her words dug deeper and found exactly what the problem was.

Either way, he was getting distracted. He was supposed to be watching a movie with her.

He _hated_ this movie. They always glamorized these parties; made them glitter and shine to an unnatural beauty. Billowing curtains, fluttering dresses, dainty gloves and bright masks. He knew better. **Masquerades** were ugly.

He felt the soft tendrils of her black hair fall on his shoulder. At least there was one thing that was actually beautiful about this movie. It sure as hell wasn't in it, though.

* * *

A/N: It's not the word 'playful' this time. Just 'play'. This thing's getting more serious than I thought it would be. ^^; Lost hold of the fluff plot bunnies. D: It's disturbing how much easier it is to write dark fics. XD Giving Ben a certain edge is always something I love to play with. But it is and will always be my Alternate Character Interpretation. ;)

I actually believe that all of these so-called masks are just facets of him, little bits that make the complex persona that is our lovable main character.


	4. Actor

Actor (Albedo/Julie)

He hadn't been lying that his version of the Omnitrix - now the Ultimatrix - was malfunctioning. Other than the inability to function unless his DNA matched with Ben Tennyson, it also occasionally decided to send electrical pulses to identify the wearer. The signals being sent to his cells happened to be accompanied with pain. _A lot of it. _It also manifested as damage to his skin and him writhing on the floor in agony. For a while his nerves were so shot he felt unable to move.

That was where she came in. He denied vehemently to himself that he even required her help. He would have eventually picked himself up anyway. She was nursing his injured body while he nursed his injured ego.

Through it all, they remained quiet.

He was horrendous at performing and his lies were visible with the nervous twitch in his left eye. But at that moment, they played a role. She, the caring stranger who played nurse for an injured teenage boy and he, the teenage boy who wasn't secretly a Galvan plotting to kill an actual teenage boy so he could retrieve a powerful device. While he wasn't playing his role very well, he decided to stick by it anyway.

"I do not even know you or why you bother," he muttered finally, unable to continue with the silence.

"I'm _not _Julie," she responded simply, smiling to herself as she gently unrolled even more gauze. His pale eyebrow raised. "And I'm definitely _not_ doing this because I feel sorry for your situation even if you're going about it the wrong way."

He felt his annoyingly human blood boil and wanted to snap her neck for presuming to give him something as insulting as her sympathy. She was just a member of a backward species with no impressive intelligence or strength. "It just so happens that you are _not _aggravating me with your insulting desire to feel 'sorry' for me," he snapped viciously, tugging his left arm back as she tried to put the medicated gauze over the burn marks.

Decisively but gently reaching out again, she placed his arm closer to her so she could apply the gauze on top of his burns. "I _can't_ imagine how horrific it must be to feel out of place. Especially in your own body," she mumbled softly. "I won't pretend to know."

He scoffed in irritation. Nonetheless, he allowed her to pull his arm closer to herself. He hated the fact that her words actually meant something. That they somehow mattered at the back of his mind. So he decided that the logical course of action was to be angry and scathing.

"Then don't," he ordered harshly, his teeth barred and his posture defensive.

He definitely wasn't playing his role very well.

There was a mysterious smile on her face he couldn't quite place, which only managed to irritate him more. He was surprised he wasn't attacking her or doing anything about his irritation. It was something about the body that was stopping him. More than ever, he was heaping hate on the accursed teenage body of Ben Tennyson.

"I don't have a lot of medical knowledge so it's a bit of a shame that I'm _not_ really here to advise you to find some professional help," she told him quietly, fixing the gauze over the visible parts of the injury. There was surprisingly a lot. The burns had spread at a much wider region than just the immediate area of the gauntlet-like device on his arm.

The ingratiatingly sympathetic eyes that looked up at him were surprisingly successful in making him begrudgingly concede. He could be civil. That was, he could _try_ to be civil. After all, being from a more intellectually superior species would make him more cultured than her.

"What with my conspicuous absence, I did _not_ hear that advise," he eventually responded, the answer seeming to bring a bright smile to her lips.

She'd finished with nursing his injuries. Unfortunately, he still wasn't finished nursing his bruised ego. He still resented her for being there.

"We've _never_ met," she said simply, dark eyes staring back at him with overwhelming compassion. She knew the concept of playing with fire and understood its repercussions. That most times, fire burnt and scalded. An action to be regretted. At the moment, she was at a truce with the fire. That was when fire was subdued enough to just be warm.

"I do _not_ familiarize myself with humans, such as yourself," he agreed simply, standing up from his position while she remained seated.

Selecting through the choices of the Ultimatrix, he allowed himself to concentrate on the device to filter her out of his periphery.

However, she put another spanner in the works by piping in rhetorically, "Is that a good idea?"

"That is absolutely none of your business," he remarked sharply, after which she conceded and let the issue go. After transforming into an Aerophibian, he flew away from the scene because he was currently _not_ in pursuit of Ben Tennyson. He also met _no one _of significance in the process.

Perhaps he was a better **actor** than he credited himself to be.

* * *

A/N: Still centred around the word 'play' but definitely not 'flirty'. This time, they're both playing. While in 'Share?' she doesn't even know Albedo exists, this time she's been told about him. Stereotypical scenario? Yes. Successful demonstration of a truce? Maybe. :D You decide.

Take the last line as you will. ;)

I keep thinking that at some level, Julie's kindness can affect Albedo enough to make him hesitate in future confrontations. He's not a completely evil character; probably just misguided - something of a well-intentioned extremist at the start that was confounded by his selfishness and his superiority complex. I really despise the depiction of him where he's completely evil. That's one-dimensional and removes all the aspects of his character that makes him interesting. :/


	5. Dog

Dog (Ben/Julie)

Summer was the perfect time for camping. Camps are the perfect set-ups for stories, its occupants huddled around a fire and talking in hushed voices about hearsay. The canopy of trees that crouched over the camp, the sounds of nature and lack of access to technology would place a feeling of entrapment. As if, there was no other place to run to.

This time, the Tennysons didn't bring the Rustbucket to go to camp. They also had two new additions to spend the summer with.

Grandpa Max decided to hire a cabin to stay at for the night with proper beds in bunks. There were three rooms, one with actual bunk beds while the others didn't. He designated the boys with him so that the girls could have the other rooms and have their privacy. Both boys seemed visibly disappointed about the set-up.

As Max decided to trudge to the boys' room, Ben decided to pipe in towards his girlfriend, "Can't I stay at your room instead? I'll sleep on the floor, even. Grandpa snores."

Eyebrow raised and smiling, she propped up her Galvanic Mechamorph closer to her chest while she remarked flatly, "Nice try, Ben."

He groaned dejectedly as he watched the black-haired girl stroll towards her room.

From behind him he could hear a male voice start to say, "So, Gwen…"

A quick response intruded before he could even finish, "Don't even think about asking."

Ben turned around to see his cousin walk off while rolling her eyes as Kevin shrugged in defeat. Adorning his famous roguish smile, he mumbled, "Worth a shot." Even Ben was inclined to roll his eyes.

After brushing his teeth and getting dressed for bed, Ben stared in annoyance at the door to their shared room. _Great. This was going to be the best night ever. _Sighing exaggeratedly, he walked inside.

* * *

The room that the cabin had was utilitarian. The place was clean and the sheets were laid out on the bed with an ironed smoothness. It was all overwhelmingly white accentuated with lime green tattered curtains hanging over closed glass windows. Upon approaching it, she realized that the windows were nailed shut and couldn't be raised if the place got too stuffy. Trailing her eyes over the area, she noted that the white closet and white table with a lamp on the side of the bed were the only furniture present in the room.

"Quality accommodation, huh?" she commented sarcastically towards the symbiote in her arms.

"Ship," was her Mechamorph's enthusiastic response, wagging his tail. This was enough to put a smile back on her face.

Affectionately hugging him a little tighter, she eventually placed him down on the floor. "Can't complain, though," she stated optimistically, as she patted her hand on the bed. She smiled when there was no dust that went up the air. "It's clean and spacious." She stared around the relatively barren room. "Probably a bit too spacious. It's kinda creepy."

Despite the white paint around the room, its age colored it just a little darker and made some of the paint peel. The stain on the paint made the light murkier, allowing more darkness in the room than one would expect from something that was painted that white. It was so reminiscent of old hospitals, which were automatically eerie.

Kneeling towards her Mechamorph, she scratched his side and said lightly, "But you're here to protect me from anything, right?"

The symbiote rubbed his face against her hand and responded in the affirmative with, "Ship!"

Comforted by her pet's presence, she trotted off to washroom so she could get dressed for bed. A pink slip seemed perfectly fine and was light enough not to make her too hot, seeing that she couldn't open the windows. With a tired yawn and stretch, she flicked off the light switch and plopped herself down on the bed.

The darkness that enveloped the room managed to make it even scarier. As she stared at the ceiling for a while, looking closely at the corners more closely than what was sane, she sighed and pulled up the covers on top of her head even if she would feel hot.

At some point, she fell asleep. She didn't know what time it was but she was woken up by a dripping sound in the middle of the night. She also noticed that she had kicked off the covers in her sleep. Eyes still unaccustomed to the dark, she prevented her eyes from wandering. She was still kind of scared so the only movement that she did was to rest on her side.

It was so quiet except for the annoying dripping sound. While she wanted to check on the faucet in the washroom just in case she hadn't completely turned it off, her sleep-bogged mind's imagination was getting overactive. She heard about urban legends that started off at this kind of scenario. Julie was a smart girl and knew that those stories weren't exactly true. Then again, she had a boyfriend who turned into ten different aliens so any strange occurrences were now officially up for grabs.

Trying to comfort herself, she dropped her hand from the bed to search out her Galvanic Mechamorph. Eyes still closed to keep herself from seeing phantoms that weren't there, she dropped her hand farther. She was sure he was just there somewhere and would be there to protect her if needed.

Then she felt a wetness trail itself all over hand. The surprise made her cry out and pull her hand back. Hurriedly, she turned on the lamp on the side of her bed with her dry hand. With eyes wide open this time, she looked down under her bed and met a boy with sheepish green eyes stare back at her. The same boy had his tongue stuck out.

"Ben, ew," she groaned in disgust, raising her damp palm to stare at it. Shaking off most of the wetness, she looked down at him irritably from the top of the bed. All the sleepiness from before had gone and she was alert enough to find out exactly what he was doing. "My **dog** doesn't even have a tongue."

Wiping off the slobber on his face with the back of his hand, he remarked, "Well, that's not my problem." He began trying to use his elbows to push himself out from under the bed.

The symbiote sitting innocently against the wooden leg of the bed corner decided to pipe in curiously, "Ship?"

"What are you even doing here anyway?" she asked in confusion as he pulled himself to a sit after dragging his body from underneath the bed. "Why aren't you sleeping?"

"I told you I wouldn't be able to sleep with Grandpa's snoring," he reasoned out. "I got bored trying to count sheep and decided to visit your room." He looked around. "Yours is bigger than our one. That sucks!"

"I'm surprised you weren't trying to count smoothies instead," she remarked sarcastically, irritated that he had intruded her sleep.

"I did that too," he agreed simply, shrugging dismissively as he plucked at lint on his pyjamas. "Didn't work."

She blinked a couple of times before saying, "Why didn't you bother Kevin instead? He's in the same room as you."

"I did that too," he remarked perkily, wide eyed in surprise. "Wow, geniuses think alike, huh?"

Unable to help herself, she burst out laughing. Stifling her own mouth from her outburst, she looked at him with tears in her eyes from the excessive laughter. She was about to comment fondly on his adorable strangeness but then he said something first.

"This was revenge for eating the rest of the chips from last time," he continued petulantly, blowing up his cheeks childishly.

She blinked at him disbelievingly. "That happened two days ago. Also, you weren't eating it." Crossing her arms in front of her, she decided to go ahead and entertain him anyway. She'd lost her inclination to sleep after that little fiasco.

"That's unfair. I was going to until you ate it."

For a while they just stared at each other, Ben looking like a child with a tantrum and Julie with her mildly amused and slightly annoyed expression. She decided to settle the draw of their staring game. Lifting up the pillow from behind her, she threw it directly at his face.

The slight surprise on his face disappeared when she lifted another pillow and stated with a playful smile, "That was revenge for waking me up and turning on that faucet."

An evil smirk slowly appeared on his face, "How do you know it was me?"

A little stunned, she asked, "So it wasn't you?" The confusion gave Ben the leeway he needed to let herself remain open as he thumped the pillow on his girlfriend's surprised face.

"Yeah, it was me," he confirmed simply, as the feathers that had flown off from the pillow started settling down around them.

With an equally evil smile on her face, she declared, "This means war."

As a pillow fight ensued, the Galvanic Mechamorph at the foot of the bed only stared in confusion at the two teenagers make such a commotion. The questioning, "Ship?" wasn't heard in the raucous of giggling, laughing, feet pattering and pillows slamming.

In the meantime, Gwen was staring at the ceiling after being woken up by the noise coming from the opposite room. She was having a rather lovely beauty sleep before she was startled into wakefulness by giggling sounds that escalated to running and thumping. Now, she was just a little bit pissed and groggy. She couldn't quite go back to sleep because the noise was still ongoing.

"Ya know, if those two keep at it, Max'll wake up," someone remarked from the direction of the floor.

"Kevin?" she asked in surprise, looking down at his smirking face from on top of her bed. "What are you doing here?"

Still maintaining the same smirk, he winked at her and wagged his eyebrows suggestively. For a short while, she just stared at him with a flat expression on her face. Then that expression was slowly quirked so that her lips curved upwards on one side and her eyebrows lowered to look positively evil. A pillow slammed right on Kevin's face before he could react.

Grandpa Max was a legendary intergalactic police officer. A Magister of the Plumbers; he was perfectly capable of fighting numerous threats and throwing them where they belonged. He didn't shy away from any confrontation and was on his feet, at the ready, whenever there was a potential menace.

Unfortunately, he was only human and humans needed sleep. Groaning, he turned over on his side and slammed a pillow over his face to block out the noise. _What did he need to do to get some peace and quiet around here?_

* * *

A/N: Such a Cloudcuckoolander, Ben. XD This was centered around the urban legend of the girl who was comforted by her dog who licked her hand when she hung it down her bed. It meant that the dog was there and was ready to protect her. What had really happened was that her dog has been killed and the guy who did it was licking her hand instead. She finds out when she finds her mutilated dog inside her close with the words "People can lick too" on the wall of the closet.


	6. Cats

Cats

(Albedo/Julie)

Breathing. She was concentrating on breathing. That was, trying to normalize it and stop hyperventilating. It hurt to breathe; her ribs squeezed against her innards when she tried to inhale. Even then, her body couldn't be deterred from hyperventilating. She didn't want to faint. Not then.

She was stumbling against the chairs that seemed to be everywhere. It was so dark but she couldn't risk turning on the lights lest she advertise where she was. The chairs could help her though. A little bit. She recognized the futility of running; she was injured and her legs weren't powerful enough to outrun any of the aliens in his arsenal. Only out of a self-protective instinct and a desire for survival did she keep on going. Even if he did catch her, her lips were glued shut. That wasn't what she was afraid of, really. It was more the anger and the fear and the grieving - _Ship_ - that was pushing her to still try to defy him. She would keep going even at the last ounce of strength just to put a distance between them.

Letting go of the wound on her middle for a short while, she dragged the chairs and tables towards the door one by one. All in a panic. It won't work for too long but it would consume enough time to give her a head start.

Red-rimmed dark eyes glared at the door, the owner of the eyes eventually averting them towards the other parts of the room to search for any way out. Flicking her head from side to side, she clutched desperately at her middle as she made her way towards the other end. She realized that she could push the glass window open and try to squeeze out to the other corridor.

Wood smashed so loudly that she staggered back in surprise and screamed. Another shatter of the door and she could see Humongousaur's fist through the hole. Some of the chairs piled over the door tumbled down. When the fist was removed, all she could glean from the darkness behind the door was points of bright red.

She had to run _faster_.

* * *

…Run fast if you can

I'm gonna get you anyway

There's nowhere to hide, baby

Breathe in, breathe out

It's almost over now…

* * *

She was dependent on her Galvanic Mechamorph. Well, that would be a misrepresenting claim. It was more like: he was considerably more powerful than her without her Galvanic Mechamorph. After all, she still did successfully kick him in the gut after he had disposed of her intrusive symbiote. Others would say that his swift retaliation was incredibly disproportionate. Especially because he had transformed. Nonetheless.

He had to give her a little credit for her signs of intelligence. He could see that she was trying to move down the building and navigate her way to an escape. Of course, he was also manipulating her movements so she remained within a certain perimeter and he could corner her.

Reappearing in front of her path, he had phased through the floor in his Necrofriggian form so that she would stop short from being able to reach the fire exit door. Skidding across the pavement, she ignored the blood that trickled down her mouth at the exertion. Red eyes widened when a collection of books and manuscripts were thrown in the direction of his head. He was too concentrated at phasing out that he almost failed to note where she ran off to.

Thankfully, a hint of pink that sped through a door was glimpsed. An abrupt chuckle of amusement came from his throat. _She was running on pure adrenaline. Eventually, she would expend all her reserves. _He disappeared through the floor.

When he reappeared at the corridor she had gone to, he only needed to pivot to see her white shoes retreating a certain distance away from where he was. He wouldn't have needed to keep track of her. The blood that dropped constantly from her wound created the little clues he needed to find her. Wrapping the wings around himself, he slowly walked down the corridors as he stared at the small vibrant drops dotting the cement.

The pathway was leading to a room where there were no other back exits or windows. A flash of red light and a red clad teenager stood in place of the Necrofriggian.

Eyebrows knitted together, he watched the trail suddenly have a smeared portion then a disappearance of the rest of the blood. The part where it was smeared still retained the pattern of the underside of shoes. Like she had tried to rub it out.

A smash of wood. The spread of pain around his back was slow. Craning his head behind him, he watched her raise the chair legs and whatever bits of chair that were still in her hands. As the hurt slowly numbed over, he spun around completely to kick her.

She screamed as his leg connected at her side. Rolling down towards the floor, she writhed at all the injuries he'd so far given her. The wound on her middle, the blood trickling down her mouth and what he was sure was a developing bruise on her side. The scrapes and bruises on her legs were all her own, though. Running was a futile exercise and she simply made herself collide against all the furniture in her desperation to get away.

Frowning, he hoped he hadn't induced an internal haemorrhage. Perhaps he should carry on with asking at this point. Her cooperation might be a little bit easier to draw out now that she was in this much pain.

Then he saw her try to rise from her fall. A curious glint flashed through his red eyes. He was only becoming even more amused at her attempts. Thin legs tried to push up the exhausted, injured body, tripped, then tried again. _Was this stubbornness a recurring human feature? Or was it simply an aspect of Ben Tennyson's immediate company?_

Even if she was badly hurt, she rose to her feet again.

It was then that he realized why the blood trail stopped. She'd wrapped her own jacket firmly around her middle to staunch as much of the blood flow as possible. But it was beginning to bleed back out. The pink was being colored overwhelmingly with red.

For a while, he simply observed what she would do next. He really shouldn't have been surprised when she actually ran past him. But he was.

Slightly annoyed but still curious, he gave her enough leeway to continue her limping/running.

Flicking through the Ultimatrix, he chose the Aerophibian and slammed his hand on the device. He didn't want to use any Ultimate forms. It was unnecessary. Procuring a small human girl was an easy enough task. Why he was taking this long was all for his own personal interests. Something of an experiment. _He wanted to see how far she could run. _

Slicing his wings through the air, he pursued her down the corridor. As she went down another floor, he forced himself to make his flight that much quieter. It would be foolish to allow her to get farther, even if it did make things just a little bit more interesting.

The place she entered was filled with large stacks of bound manuscripts placed in neat little rows in shelves. She ran through the middle of two shelves, resting her back on one. Breathing in and out in short gasps, she glared at the different ends of the shelves to inspect for where he might be.

Spindly feet lightly descended on top of the shelf opposite to the one where she was resting herself on. She didn't notice the flash of red light because she was looking on the other end at the time. When she did look in his direction, he covertly stood in the darkness so that it covered his form.

**Cats**, despite any pretences of being domesticated, would always pounce at mice even if they do not require them for sustenance. Simply for the thrill of the chase. The Galvan prided himself in being well-bred and possessing the advanced intellect to be more refined than most species. While he was not familiar at all with cats - since he paid no attention to lesser species of no importance - he possessed a startling similarity to them.

Slinking discreetly that much closer to the girl, he basked in the palpable fear emanating from her. Even through the face that glared with anger, he could see the tell tale signs of fear. Beads of sweat, the goose bumps travelling on her skin, shaking knees. For a few moments, he gave her silence. The slow settlement of complacency on her body language was his cue.

Cats always did prefer food that ran. When the rise and fall of her chest slowed, his lips quirked to one side. He jumped. Like cats, he sometimes _played with food. _

* * *

A/N: The fluff overdose has gone. :( The story was inspired by the chorus of the song Run by Kitchie Nadal. The lyrics are in the fic. Of course, it was based on a lot of disturbing songs including Snow White Queen by Evanescence but it was primarily based on that one.

I've read way too much dark romance in my time. XD Yes, this is supposed to be a pairing fic. My rationality behind this was: Albedo's extremely proactive and right to the point so playing around with someone means he's incredibly curious. If he wasn't interested in any way, he'd just get right down to interrogation without the need for messing around. Yes, I mentioned I disliked completely evil!Albedo. This was actually to expand more on the side of him that's morally questionable but not to imply that this is the entirety of him. The one-shots are too short to play out all of the bits of the characters' personalities.


End file.
